


Sunrise

by FuryNZ



Series: Sunrise [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:17:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryNZ/pseuds/FuryNZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Setting, AU.  Fili is walking home from work late at night when he sees a figure sitting on the edge of a rooftop high above him.  Despite his fear of heights, he reaches out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot inspired by a prompt about suicide, and one person trying to talk another down. More details below the story.

It was a warm and humid night. The city streets were bathed in the glow of yellow and white lamplights, the shades intermingling down the edge of the streets. The yellow lamps gave a sickening, dark hue to the cars parked up and down the street. Fili hated walking home at this late hour, nearly half past three. Taking a cab would put a sizable dent in his funds, and he wasn’t ready to risk that. He had a good day job, working as a quality control manager in a large call center. It ran weekdays from eight to five and paid decently. The bartending job was only taken to help him achieve his goal of obtaining a down payment on his own apartment. Unless the weather was truly terrible, he promised himself that he’d walk to and from his weekend job.

The metal roller doors hid most of the shop doors in this part of town; all of them covered in a variety of graffiti, and some of it painting the walls as well. Windows on the first few levels were barred; upstairs lived the residents of this tired, poor district. Most of the old buildings had metal fire escapes hugging the brick walls within the alleys. The bright street lamps created far too many dark places for predators to hide. 

His fingers nervously gripped the strap of his messenger bag. He lifted it up, freeing some of the trapped long, blond hair that had come loose from his hair tie. He was tense, fingers wrapped around his house keys. He walked as close as possible to the street. The dark alleys off to the side were the most likely place for muggers and criminals to hide and he wanted as much warning as possible. Unfortunately, the cars also worried him, and he watched carefully as he approached each one, looking for feet or movement. 

Fili had been doing the bartending job for nine months; he promised himself another three months minimum to boost his savings. During the winter he welcomed the coming warmer months; but as they arrived he found that everybody stayed indoors during the cold nights. There were far more unscrupulous types venturing out in the warmer weather at all hours. That thought frightened him, and he kept his head level, confident, yet his eyes scanning his field of view.

A low moaning noise shook Fili. He paused, grip tightening around his keys. His breath quickened as his eyes scanned the shadows. Nothing. He urged his legs to move faster; home was only a couple blocks away.

Up ahead sat a dark van on the side of the road. Fili had seen too many movies, and looked across the road. The other side, however, was cast in blackness where two of the streetlamps had ceased to function. He swallowed and continued towards the van, moving towards the building slightly. Suddenly a piece of broken concrete fell down in front of him. He gasped, immediately pressing his own hand over his mouth to cover the noise. Hands trembling, he backed towards the van, trying to look up at the brownstone building. 

From above there was a yelp, and a chunk of concrete plummeted to the ground, smashing on the sidewalk. In the silence it seemed to make a terribly loud noise, and Fili glanced around, waiting to see if any faces would peek through curtains into the night. He saw none. Standing closer to the dark van than he wanted, he craned his neck back and looked toward the top of the brownstone building.

It was four stories, with a grand entrance at ground level, and large windows which dipped below the street level, encased in small fences. Graceful arches in a lighter shade of red brick highlighted each window, aligned perfectly along the face of the old building. The top was done in concrete, with a large arch over the words _McCarthy’s, 1904_. And standing over the center of that arch was a man walking along the ledge. More concrete slipped off, falling toward Fili. The man on the building top wavered.

“Hello?” Fili tentatively called up, afraid of gathering too much attention from nearby residents. The figure paused, wavering, before sitting down at the edge and looking back toward the city center. The man hadn’t seen Fili.

It was four stories down to hard concrete sidewalk from where the man sat. And despite being in a city of half a million people, Fili felt all alone with the man on top of the building. Usually, the loneliness he felt on his walk home was both comforting and frightening at the same time. Now all thoughts of comfort were fleeting as he stared up the bricks and the feet dangling precariously.

There was another soft sob from above. Something was wrong, and Fili couldn’t continue without finding out what and why. The front door had a buzzer; he gave it a tug but it was locked, as he suspected. He reached the corner of the building and glanced down the alleyway. Part was aglow in lamplight, but the fire escape was cast mostly in darkness. Fortunately, it sat above a large waste container. Fili climbed onto the container, pushing his bag back further, and grabbed the bottom rail until it slid down. He could feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he wrapped around the metal, paint flecks chipping under his hands.

Fili was not a risk taker. Walking twenty minutes home from his bartending job was the most risk he was willing to take, and every Friday and Saturday night he feared that his own anxiety would kill him before another person attacked. He did not like observations lounges from skyscrapers. He refused to go bungee jumping, skydiving, white water rafting, or nearly any activity that involved some risk. And now he found himself moving up, rung by rung, white knuckles gripping the bars.

He glanced down and immediately wished he hadn’t, his head swimming. The part of the alley in light showed him he was three stories up. He shifted his eyes to the blackness below; surely if he couldn’t see it wouldn’t feel so terrible. He was wrong. His stomach churned when he couldn’t see bottom, and he abruptly halted and pressed himself into the rungs, holding on tightly with his own thoughts threatening to throw him off. 

He closed his eyes, focusing on breathing for a few moments. Calmed, he climbed up the last ladder, relieved to reach the top and climb out onto the roof. There was a metal water tank at the top, a small access door into the apartments below and a short wall around the edge, the width of his forearm. He looked across the rooftop; sitting on the short wall was a hunched figure, the lights of the city center bright around the dark form. Fili walked towards him, slowly and quietly until he stood in the middle of the roof. 

The man had dark, shaggy hair obscuring his face. He wore an old shirt, stretched around the neck and torn on the side. His jeans were ripped and nearly worn through in several places. A backpack sat on the ground beside the ledge. 

Fili cleared his throat.

The man turned quickly, hair bouncing around his shoulders, his hands grasping the rough ledge to keep himself from tumbling. “Who’s there?”

Fili stopped. “Sorry,” he said softly, pulling off his own bag and setting it down. “I heard you from below and I had to come look.”

“What do you want?” The words were quick, punctuated, and nervous. 

“I’m just curious what you’re doing up here,” Fili answered truthfully. “I heard crying.”

“Oh.” He turned, looking back towards the city.

“My name is Fili. I really don’t like heights.” He glanced around, finding the views of the other rooftops mildly interesting. He was relieved he couldn’t see the ground.

The man laughed then sniffled, another sob coming through. “Why the fuck would you come up here then?”

Fili shrugged, although the other didn’t notice. “Do you want to talk?”

“We are, aren’t we?” He voice was heavy with grief, and he stumbled through the words.

Fili frowned. “Yeah. Do you want to come over here and talk?”

“No.” He hadn’t even turned, his gaze still looking on the bright lights of the skyscrapers. “I’m good here.”

“Can I come closer?”

“No.”

Fili sighed, and sat down on the roof where he’d been standing. “So what’s your name?”

“People call me Kili.” There was no feeling in that forlorn voice. 

“Can I call you that, or should I call you something else?” Fili dug a little deeper, looking for more information on the dark-haired man.

“Kili’s fine.”

“Okay, Kili it is. So why are you up at this hour?” 

“Can’t sleep. Too dangerous on the streets.” His head raised, and he looked over his shoulder to see where Fili sat, then back down again. He pushed forward slightly.

“Come back a bit,” Fili said quickly. Kili didn’t respond for a terribly long moment, and Fili gritted his teeth. Eventually he nodded, planting his hands and scooting back against the stone. Fili unconsciously flicked strap of his bag and watched Kili’s back. “Where do you live?”

“Nowhere. Was kicked out a week ago.”

“What happened?”

“Couldn’t afford it. Roommates told me to go. Lost my job to downsizing, can’t get another one. Fucking useless.” His chin dropped to his chest and he wept.

“It’s a bad economy, Kili. Lots of people struggling right now.” Fili flinched with the words. They weren’t going to help this man. He needed to know more, but Kili wasn’t forthcoming with details. “Don’t you have anyone you can stay with?”

“No. Mom and last friends kicked me out when I was doing drugs. That was back in California though. So I moved here, to start a new life. But I’ve failed. I ruined everything because I’m fucking useless. I don’t have anybody.” He stopped and traced a finger along the stone ledge. “Nobody would miss me. It’s better that way. I don’t want to make anybody sad. I just want to stop existing.”

Fili bit his lip, unsure how to respond. “I think they’re just upset with you because you were doing drugs.” He searched his thoughts to try and keep the conversation going. “Do you still do drugs?”

“Can’t afford them. Haven’t done any for months. Don’t really miss them though.” He turned back towards the city to the east. “But I’d love one more hit so I can go peacefully, happily.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere, Kili.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He didn’t know this man, yet he felt an overwhelming desire to keep him alive. Fili sat on the thought, finding it peculiar. 

Kili sat back, propping a foot up in front of him; Fili wasn’t sure if that was any safer. He glanced down, rubbing the tight muscles at the back of his neck, wishing for a nugget of wisdom to enter his mind and solve this. Fili sat in silence for nearly half an hour, hearing the occasional sniffle and shuffle from the wall.

He leaned back onto his outstretched hands and arms, looking up. “The stars are bright tonight,” he said. The city lights usually made them near impossible to see. “It’s really pretty.”

“Are they? I miss the stars. I used to lay in bed when I was young, turning the pillow around to the foot of the bed where the window was. I’d lay there, looking at the stars until I fell asleep.”

“Come look at them back here.”

Kili just shook his head. “I miss the starlight. I miss the constellations. I used to know them all. Now...I can’t see them. They’re gone. Overwhelmed by this damn city. I don’t like Boston, Fili. Why did I come here?”

“Where did you live in California?”

“In the north. My mother had a house on the outskirts of town. Surrounded by trees, in the mountains. But no jobs. Not many people.”

“Sounds like you need a nice small town.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. I’m so tired, Fili. I haven’t got the energy to try putting down roots anywhere else.”

“It’s just an idea,” Fili said, his voice hopeful. Kili didn’t reply, and they descended into silence again, lasting near to an hour. Fili made an occasional noise; humming, clearing his throat, moving his bag just to let Kili know he was still there.

Kili began muttering angrily, swaying on the side. 

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No.”

“Extended family?”

“No. Just my mother. And I haven’t spoken to her in over a year. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t ring. Nobody cares about me. Because I’m useless. Look at me. Can’t do anything. Not worth anything.” He sniffled again, wiping his sleeve across his face.

Fili frowned, afraid to pursue that line of questioning. Kili really did appear to have a limited support network to turn to. 

“What did you do for work?” Fili asked, trying to rouse Kili from the spiral of negative thoughts threatening to give him the last push he needed.

“Just down at the docks as a laborer. Get bullied around by the senior guys, the bigger guys. They used to make me carry the heaviest things, because they knew I couldn’t. See? Useless. I’m not worth anything.”

Fili winced in sympathy. “Do you have any other skills?”

“No. I’m a waste of space.” Another long, uncomfortable pause that Fili didn’t know how to stop.

“I’m crying, Fili. Why I am crying? I don’t even know. Every day I wake up, afraid of what the day will bring. I have nowhere to go. No job. No friends. No life.” He quickly stood up, moving to the edge and peering down. Concrete skittered at the edge, and Fili could hear a chunk hitting the path below. “I’m nothing, and I hate waking up to nothing every day. I won’t wake up to that anymore. I won’t.”

“Kili, please sit down! Please.”

“I’m dead already inside. Why keep the shell, right?” He laughed, mirthlessly. 

“I think it’s a rather nice shell, actually. Turn around so I can see you properly.” Fili surprised himself with his commanding tone; it wasn’t like him to order somebody around.

“What?” There was genuine shock in Kili’s reply, but he turned ever so slightly, eyes meeting Fili’s for the first time.

Fili smiled as he looked up. Kili was slightly younger, with dark brown hair threatening to fall forward and conceal large, warm brown eyes. He hadn’t shaved in a few days at least. His lips were parted slightly, and he was slender. Too slender, Fili realized.

Fili’s eyes lit up. “Are you hungry?”

“I -- yes.” There was hope in that voice. Fili felt his fears lift slightly.

“I’ve got a couple muesli bars in my bag. Do you want to come here and eat one with me?”

“I…no.” The voice trailed off. “I want to stay here.”

Fili sighed and attempted his second plan. “Can I bring it to you, then? You’ll have to sit down so I can reach your hand.”

“Okay.” The tone was short, and Fili was disappointed to no longer hear that sliver of hope in Kili’s voice, but was pleased to see Kili sit down again, legs hanging over the edge. Fili picked up his bag, walking toward the edge. His heart raced as he drew closer to the edge and saw the tops of the lamp posts, and he stumbled, scaring himself.

“I -- I will sit on the roof back here, okay?” He said, sitting down a foot behind Kili. “I don’t like looking down.”

“I find it kinda reassuring. Inviting. Nothing is very inviting.”

“Here.” Fili leaned forward with the muesli bar, ignoring the last remark. Kili turned around, reaching for it and their fingers brushed. Fili smiled and to his surprise Kili returned it. Fili rather liked the image. 

“Thanks.” He unwrapped the bar, eating it quickly and shoving the wrapper into his back pocket. 

“I’ve got another if you want it for later?”

Kili shook his head. “There’s not going to be a later, Fili. But thanks anyway.”

“Then I have to ask...why are you still sitting there?” Fili shuffled forward, nearly at Kili’s back on the roof, sitting where he couldn’t see over the wall. 

Kili pointed to the sky, a tinge of brightness on the horizon. “I wanted to watch one more sunrise. It’s nearly here, and then I’m going to let it all go, and finish this miserable existence.” He stood again, toes at the edge of the drop. “Just one more sunrise.” He peered towards the soft glow surrounding the skyscrapers.

And then Fili caught on. “Why stop at one? There’s thousands more to see.”

“Because one is enough. It’s all I want to see, and it’s nearly here. After that...I don’t have anything to live for.”

Fili slowly stood, shaking and not looking anywhere but the rooftop around him. He reached over and grasped Kili’s hand. “What if I gave you something to live for?” 

Kili tried to pull away, startled, but Fili held on. “What if we drove to the countryside tomorrow evening and laid on the hood of my car, watching the stars? What if we head to the beach and watch the sunrise? Stop at a diner for some ice cream? Wake up and make blueberry pancakes for breakfast?”

Kili stilled himself, no longer struggling to pull free. “That sounds nice,” Kili’s voice trembled. 

“What if I told you I want you to get off that wall so I can give you a hug right now.”

“You -- you do?” The voice filled with palpable surprise.

“Yes.”

“Would you really?” His eyes went wide, his head tilted to the side.

“I most certainly would. I just need you to come back to the middle,” he explained, dropping the hand and walking backwards, dragging his bag along. “I’m too frightened of the edge.”

Kili turned, standing atop the wall, smiling softly as he watched Fili’s retreat. He looked back down over his shoulder.

“Please, Kili. Come over here.” Fili’s head throbbed, and Kili’s movements appeared to be in slow motion. The other man turned slowly but looked back down over the edge. Fili closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to watch. “Please?”

Footsteps, coming closer. He opened his eyes and then opened his arms. Suddenly the brunet pushed against him, and he put a foot back to keep from stumbling while wrapping his arms around Kili.

A flood emerged from Kili’s eyes, and he pressed his face into Fili’s neck, sobbing openly and loudly. His fingers dug into Fili’s arms, but the blond didn’t care. He pulled the shaking man closer, gently running his hand up and down Kili’s back. Fili said nothing, only holding him as long as Kili needed him.

Finally Kili pulled back, eyes rimmed with red, yet _smiling_. Fili brought up a hand, gently rubbing the tears on his cheeks away. “My place is only two blocks away. We can have a snack, sleep then wake up and have pancakes as late lunch. C’mon,” Fili reached for his hand, tugging it. 

“My backpack,” Kili said, motioning towards the bag sitting by the wall.

Fili held his hand. “Can you leave it?” He didn’t want Kili near the edge again.

“It has my phone, my driver’s license. I really need it,” he stepped towards it, but Fili pulled him back with an audible gulp. “You really are terrified of heights, aren’t you?”

“I can’t even stand on a small ladder,” he sighed, stepping forward on shaky feet.

“What if I held your hand?” Kili asked. “I wouldn’t let you fall.”

Fili looked at him curiously. There was a confidence in his voice; more hope than he’d heard previously. Kili was nowhere near his emotional edge anymore, so Fili allowed him near the physical one. They walked up and Kili squeezed his hand, picking up the bag and pausing. “Look,” he said, pointing at the sunrise. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it? I’d like to see it over a lake someday.”

Fili’s breath quickened as he saw the street level below, and he took a step back. “We’ll put that, and everything else on a list,” Fili pulled his hand, drawing him back towards the door. Kili followed, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. He pushed strands of his hair back behind his ear. 

They reached the door down, and Kili stopped, pulling Fili into another hug. Fili gazed at Kili, his cheeks flushing. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Fili said.

“Thank you,” Kili whispered. “For saving me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Depression, anxiety and suicide are topics I care greatly about. I specifically refer to a note left by a man who jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge in 1963 (mentioned in [this article](http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2003/10/13/031013fa_fact?currentPage=all)). In the man's apartment they found a note which said 'I'm going to walk to the bridge. If one person smiles at me on the way, I will not jump.' And while everyone deals with depression differently, I'd like to think that Fili's hug was all that Kili needed, similar to the man wanting a smile. 
> 
> And one of my favorite sayings (possibly JM Barrie, but source is disputed): "Be kinder than necessary for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle."


End file.
